Yes, Professor
by libranchica
Summary: An SSHG ficlet. Hermione discovers many things over the summer holidays before her 7th year at Hogwarts. Snape discovers Hermione. PLEASE read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No, they're not mine.**

Wet.

She leaned over the balcony of the Astronomy Tower, escaping the meagre shading of the ancient stones for a moment. It was past midnight, torrentially raining, and she was standing alone. A recipe for poetic grandiosity, and yet the one word she could think of to justify her surroundings was _wet_.

She let the water run down her face, slide across the bridge of her nose and across the soft curve of her lips. Hermione revelled in its musty scent of nothingness, and allowed her discomfort to evaporate into oblivion.

_Wet_.

"Aesthetic purification, Miss Granger?" He murmured. "I had thought higher of you than that."

"Some privacy would be appreciated." She replied, dismal.

"Some privacy would be appreciated, _professor_", He echoed. "Don't overstep your boundaries, Miss Granger."

Her hands curled into fists around the cold, marble railing. Her retort was acerbic.

"When you so palpably overstepped your own, _professor_?"

Even though her back was turned to him, the sneer permeated through the few metres between them. He walked towards her – slow, deliberate steps accompanied by a fixated stare at the back of her head, ending only when he stood immediately behind her. "With your consent, as it were." He began. "And might I suggest that the next time you're seeking solace, you search in a place _other _than the focal point of our previous….. trysts."

His silken words across the back of her neck were madness to her restraint. "If anyone found out… If I told someone – " She began.

"Like who?" He mused, sardonically, "Potter and Weasely? Because if you had any intention of revealing this to anyone, I would be equally enthusiastic to report that it was consensual."

"You'd have a hard time proving it." She declared, fingering a small crack on the railing and resisting the urge to press herself backwards against the familiar contours of his skilful body.

"I would. My friend Veritaserum wouldn't."

He gently pushed her hair aside to expose an inch of pale flesh and kissed it lightly. "You know," he continued, "this would be slightly more difficult if you didn't keep coming back, Miss Granger. Now turn around."

And she did.

He lifted her face up towards his and seized a forceful kiss from her rain-beaten lips. Then he seized another one. And another, till he had broken through her defences and the kisses became voluntary on her behalf.

"Come closer", he whispered, between aggressive reunions of their lips, "You're soaking."

"Yes, _professor"_.


	2. A letter from home

**Author's Note: Thanks for the lovely reviews :-) Made my day. Anyway, I've decided to continue this ficlet – this chapter's setting the scene but there'll be more SS/HG interaction in the next chapter. Promise!**

**As ever, reviews and constructive criticism is most appreciated….!**

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_Taptaptaptap._

_Crack._

Hermione stirred a little in her deep slumber, but awoke only when her ears perceived the fracture of glass. Wearily, she sat up in bed and registered the large, snowy owl harassing the now cracked window.

"Hedwig!"

She jumped out of bed, ran to the window and threw it open. The owl gracefully perched itself on the windowsill and held its leg out to be relieved of the oversized package. Hermione found herself smiling into its large, amber eyes as she fumbled with the strings and set the parcel onto a nearby table.

"Took them all long enough to write." Hermione mused aloud. "Make sure you peck them all really hard when you get back to the Burrow, alright?"

Hedwig hooted deeply in response, which Hermione took as a forgranted yes. The owl turned around and flew off, departing quickly from her presence.

She stood for a while and watched it go, surveying the Hogwarts grounds. The sun was out in full blazon – must have been well past midday – and the weather had certainly cleared since last night.

_Last night_. She thought.

She shook her head and picked up the parcel, desperately banishing the images of two flushed bodies converging, of skin against skin and hungry lips against hungry lips.

_Focus. On. The. Parcel. _She instructed herself curtly, moving to her bed to take a seat. Hermione gathered her blankets around her and propped the parcel on her pillow to unravel the mess of strings holding the bundle together. _Ron's handiwork, no doubt. _Various letters and a small box lay beneath the wrinkled cream paper. She picked up the first parchment envelope, on which was scrawled a large "From Harry".

_Dear Hermione, _the letter began:

_Hope you're well – although I can't imagine for the life of me how that's possible at Hogwarts these summer holidays. The place must be dead empty without Dumbledore, eh?_

_Ron's mum keeps saying you should have come here (as do the rest of us), but McGonagall seems to fancy keeping you at the school and won't hear a word from anyone. I mean, alright, we get that you're not safe at home with your parents in the muggle world…. But honestly, the Burrow would've been just as good._

_Secondly… I don't even know how to ask you what's going on with - well, Snape. _

Hermione's heart dropped 10 metres below the ground's surface. They couldn't possibly know –

_I mean, everyone accepting him back into the fold like that… Mr Weasley's told us parts of the story but COME ON….. what a load of bollocks._

Her heart rate slowed down considerably upon understanding what Harry meant. Yes, the entire ordeal was odd, but that couldn't be helped. Certainly not by three teenagers – or at least the adults continued to think.

_I'm guessing you know as much as we know. All Mr Weasley would say was that McGonagall had found Dumbledore's will and it explained Snape's position – something about Dumbledore planning his death in such a manner that it would allow Snape to remain a spy for our side. Don't ask me how it works – it's been six years and I've never understood a thing about why anyone trusts him, but we're supposed to now. Again. After he killed Dumbledore. Makes you wonder, it really does._

_What I want to ask you is this… what happened on that night Snape returned to Hogwarts? I know you were there – Mr Weasley said you proved yourself as a damn good future healer, but he wouldn't tell us what you did or what was wrong with Snape. I want all the gory details and a description of every moan of pain escaping his wretched mouth. Maybe it'll help us understand what's going on…?_

_We truly do miss you. Everyone sends their love, and Ginny says hi (it's been madness – living under the same roof as her for two weeks and having to keep my hands to myself is agony). _

_Ron says hi as well. And he says a few other things that I don't feel comfortable putting down on paper or telling you myself in any circumstance. I'm sure you can imagine what I'm talking about._

_Write back soon._

_Harry._

Hermione stared at the paper, fiddling with the corners briefly before returning it to its envelope. Her mind was racing.

She was as confused as Harry. All she knew was that two days after her arrival, the teachers remaining in the castle burst into kafuffles because McGonagall had apparently discovered some papers in Dumbledore's office with information and instructions. In true manner of the Order, no one would say a thing to the trio, but Hermione was very aware of a certain sympathy for Snape that had thereafter overtaken the staff.

Three nights later, Hagrid had found Snape half-dead outside his doorstep.

A week after that…. their little affair began…..


End file.
